A Different Sort of Heartbreak
by MossyMeow
Summary: Anakin never fell to the dark side, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. ROTS AU published in short vignettes.
1. Chapter 1

The Jedi temple was burning.

Padmé Amidala stood on her apartment balcony, watching the smoke billow out the towers of the once-proud structure. Her belly, swollen with pregnancy, pressed close to the railing as she craned her neck, intent on seeing something, anything, that might suggest Jedi lived. Even biting hard on her lower lip, Padmé was unable to prevent hot tears from spilling out of her eyes.

The entirety of her body trembled with one singular, desperate desire: the desire for her husband. She wanted him more than she ever wanted anything in her life. He's alive, he has to be alive. He can't die, not before he's met our baby. The thoughts swirled in Padmé's head, but the logical part of her brain recognized the truth. The universe was cruel; the universe didn't care about him, or her, or anyone. How many lives had the war claimed already? How many fathers never got to hold their newborn children in their arms, just like-

No. She refused to acknowledge the possibility. Anakin wasn't like the other Jedi. He would be coming up the stairs any moment now, throwing his arms around her and proclaiming his love for her in between kisses. No matter what happened, they would get through it. Together.

Padmé shut her eyes tight and allowed her lungs to fill with air. Anakin would survive. He was Jedi General Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, the Hero with No Fear.

He was her husband.


	2. Chapter 2

His arms were numb, his knuckles bruised, his nose dripping with blood, but Anakin Skywalker couldn't feel a thing. Every swing of his lightsaber felled more clones, yet they continued forward, a mass of metal and flesh. The Force was completely absent around them; from them, Anakin felt no anger, no hatred, not even a tinge of fear. It was like they didn't exist.

But they were there, breathing and marching and killing. Blaster bolts, branded bright blue for the Republic, burned through everything without discrimination: tall white columns, precious rugs, even priceless works of art displayed in the temple for millennia. And of course, they burned through the Jedi themselves. Young, old, teacher, learner, scholar, warrior- all of them sported identical burns over their hearts. Clone precision at its finest.

A clone trooper, his armor unblemished, aimed his blaster at Anakin, only for the Jedi to throw him across the corridor and into a pillar. The other clones continued marching forward, firing rapidly, their former general easily batting it back towards them. Most of the Jedi, if they even defended themselves, managed to kill one or two troopers. Skywalker had already killed twenty.

Still, Anakin's furrowed brow held no anger- already a rare occurrence when it came to battle. He focused instead on the family waiting for him. Each shot deflected was a prayer for Padmé and the baby she carried within her. He would anything for his family. He would be there when Padmé gave birth. He would be there to meet his child. He would-

He would die there, sprawled across the floor of the Jedi temple. He would be too slow to deflect the blaster bolt hurtling towards him. He would raise his lightsaber a second too late. He would crumple to the ground as the shot pierced his heart.

His last thought would be of Padmé.


	3. Chapter 3

Energy coursed through Obi-Wan's limbs as he rushed to Anakin's side. His eyes were closed, and his breathing uneven and shallow, but he was alive. He let out a small moan as Obi-Wan knelt beside him.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said quietly. "Can you hear me?"

Anakin only moaned in response. Obi-Wan forcibly grabbed his arm and hissed, "Anakin! Anakin, do you hear me?"

Anakin's eyes slid open. "Master," he said weakly. "I'm...I'm sorry for...for…"

"Ssh," Obi-Wan said. "Save your strength."

"Master, I...I…"

"That's an order, Anakin."

"I'm...I'm not…" He coughed violently, and to Obi-Wan's horror, a stream of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. "I'm not…"

"Anakin," he whispered.

"Good at...at following...orders," Anakin finished hoarsely.

Obi-Wan wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. "Be quiet, Anakin. Please."

"I...I can't. I have...to tell...to tell you…"

He shook his head. "You don't."

"But I…" Anakin inhaled, his breath rattling faintly in his chest. "I lied…"

Obi-Wan's rough fingertips stroked his cheek. "It's alright."

"I kept...I kept a secret," Anakin continued, his voice tremulous. Obi-Wan softly rested his palm on Anakin's cheek, and he leaned into the touch. "We...we did."

"Who?" Obi-Wan breathed, though he feared he already knew the answer.

Anakin's facial muscles twitched, and he slowly shut his eyes.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan cried. His strong hands trembled as he placed them on his friend's muscular chest and desperately tried to pump air into his lungs. A thin line of blood dribbled out of Anakin's mouth and onto the collar of his dark tunic. "Anakin!"

He coughed, and Obi-Wan rapidly wiped the blood from his mouth. Anakin's eyes reopened, bloodshot and full of tears. "Obi...Obi-Wan…"

"You have to be quiet, Anakin. You have to save your strength."

"No...point…"

"There is," he said, his lips dry.

"No, there….there isn't. I'm...I'm going to...I'm about…" His chest shook. "...To die. I...I know. I feel...I feel it. Obi-Wan…"

"Anakin!"

"I need...I need to...to tell...tell you…"

His voice trembled. "Anything."

"Me and...and….I….I have…"

Obi-Wan's thumb slid across Anakin's cheek and, impossibly, the younger man's blood-stained lips pulled into a smile. Gently, Obi-Wan lifted his head off the ground and onto his bent knees. He began to brush Anakin's tousled, sweaty hair out of his eyes, and felt his former Padawan's body slacken.

Anakin sighed, his breath warm against Obi-Wan's tunic. "Padmé," he breathed. "I...I…" He gasped, suddenly desperate for air. "I love…"

Obi-Wan's blue eyes softened. "I know."

A tear slid down Anakin's cheek. "I'm...I'm sorry."

He continued to stroke his hair. "Don't be."

"But she…"

His throat tightened. "I know," he said. Anakin began to open his mouth to say something, but Obi-Wan pressed his hand over his mouth. "It's okay."

Anakin blinked, and Obi-Wan gently rubbed the tears from his face. "I love you, Anakin," he said softly. "I always will. No matter...no matter what."

For a long moment, Anakin remained silent. Finally, he spoke: "Take care of her."

"I will," Obi-Wan said. Anakin's eyes slid closed. "I promise."

Obi-Wan slowly rested Anakin on the floor, stroking his friend's cheek and lightly kissing his forehead in a gesture of farewell. His eyes were closed peacefully, and the corners of his mouth were turned up in a small, grateful smile. Despite everything, he looked happy.

As he drew away, Obi-Wan felt tears burning in his eyes. For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to truly cry. He turned to look at Anakin through watery eyes, and saw him lying perfectly still, brown hair spread messily across the floor, dark robes glistening with freshly shed blood. His lightsaber had rolled away from his hand, and Obi-Wan's throat tightened painfully as he recalled all the times he had lectured him about misplacing his weapon. He bent down and wrapped his hands around the lightsaber's hilt, its weight comforting in his hands. Carefully, he placed Anakin's lightsaber on his belt, next to his own, and walked away for the last time.

He had a promise to fulfill.


End file.
